


The Whisper in His Ear

by Anonymous



Series: A Quiet Seduction [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Clueless Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Corruption, Dark Merlin (Merlin), M/M, Mind Control, Tagged for implications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:07:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25547161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It starts as an accident, a lapse of judgement, a moment of irritation. But the longer it takes to unravel, the more Merlin finds that things are just so much easier when Arthur agrees with him.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: A Quiet Seduction [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124861
Comments: 21
Kudos: 109
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello for all wondering there is a part two to this that is up now, I'm working on the rest of the chapters but chapter 1 is up, so go to the little series button in the description of this and get to that juicy juicy new content

It might be said that it began after Sigan’s botched possession. To be sure the soul of the ancient sorcerer was bound once more in the stone, sealed away with the rest of his treasures and tomb. But something remained. Something that coiled and wound its way around Merlin’s heart. It wasn’t anything notable, a seed at most, but given time the smallest of seeds can give way to the sharpest of thorns.

Of course no one suspected that, Merlin least of all. The mounting frustration he felt was simply . . . natural. Arthur refused to listen to him, in spite of all the times ( _every time, he was_ **_always_ ** _right_ ) he’d saved the prince’s life. It didn’t matter that Merlin kept his confidence and watched his back at every waking hour. It didn’t matter that he’d been taken in on the ground of having saved Arthur's life in the first place. His loyalty, his knowledge (oh and he knew so much if Arthur would just _listen_ ) all of it was examined with the scrutiny reserved for a speck of dirt. Insignificant and easily brushed aside. The sheer disrespect was galling. 

Dukes and Lords from lands far off and removed from Camelot were given their due ( ** _more_ ** _than their due, arrogant, ignorant, self righteous fools_ ). Ladies and Countess’ were offered every bit of respect they had never earned (As if the children of conquerors had any more inherent worth than anyone else). Merlin (born of magic, born to be the greatest sorcerer of all time, _born with_ **_purpose_ **) stood in the background, watching helplessly as time and again Arthur ignored him, disparaged him, and was ultimately saved by him when the prince fell to some spell or another.

Merlin knew Arthur was a good man, would someday be a great one, but it was evident that for all that he had good intentions, he lacked the fortitude to carry them out at times. Perhaps it was a result of the constant domineering of Uther, but the young prince’s will had proven time and again to be easy to crumble. And as time passed and that seed of darkness festered and grew, Merlin returned to a singular, terrible thought again and again, and found that each time the horribleness of it had diminished. 

_I could make him listen to me_.

It happened like this.

Arthur had been bewitched by another young sorceress, disguised as a traveling singer. She had been working for a druidic cult, rogue practitioners that went against the druids pacifistic leanings. She’d been rather adept at beguiling others, having turned not only Arthur, but a good half of the knights against the king. Merlin, as usual, had fallen beneath her notice. That is until she got the oh so grand idea to use him to poison the king. Her magic had been. . . interesting. He’d felt the spell try to take shape, to dull his mind and steer his thoughts. The effect was insidiously faint at first, more akin to a slight nudge than a push, but as it grew more powerful so too did the suggestions the caster could implant. Arthur had gone, in a relatively short time, from simply agreeing on the course of dinner to plotting his own father’s assassination. The effect was subtle in the beginning, most sorcerer’s wouldn’t have a hope of detecting it.

Needless to say, Merlin was not most sorcerer’s. He’d allowed her to finish casting the spell, felt the threads of it settle over his mind and when she was sure he was firmly under her thumb, he’d brushed the enchantment off like an errant cobweb. The lady had been an adept enchantress to be certain, but her more martial magics left much to be desired.

It seemed to Merlin, as he watched her body crumble into ash from his spell, that Arthur’s enemies grew less creative by the day. Plotting to ensorcel the prince and bend him to the enemy’s will had been done goodness knew how many times now. Through love spells or paranoia, or simple blunt mind control, the plot remained the same. Admittedly this had been by far the most effective of them so far, but Merlin had long since grown tired of reasoning with a bespelled Arthur. Arthur however, remained ignorant of this fact.

“I can’t believe I almost went through with that. I mean I knew Josephine was persuasive, but to think she was a witch this whole time?” Arthur said.

The sun had set and as he did every night, Merlin was preparing Arthur for bed. “Oh I don’t know, it didn’t exactly surprise me.” Merlin said blandly.

Arthur shot Merlin a look “What’s that supposed to mean?” He shrugged on his own nightshirt for once, while Merlin continued making the bed.

Merlin straightened and turned to face him. “Well I mean a new singer comes to town, and suddenly you’re not just ignoring me and Gwen but you’re requesting rabbit for dinner, changing your wardrobe, and having secretive meetings with some of your knights. Didn’t take a genius to put it together.”

Arthur scowled, “And if you’d managed to figure it out so easily, why didn’t you say anything?” 

Merlin barked a short laugh “And what exactly would that have accomplished? You were enchanted Arthur, and it’s not as if you ever listen to me anyway.”

“Well maybe I would if you ever had anything intelligent to say!”

Merlin scoffed. “Oh I have plenty of intelligent things to say, you just wouldn’t understand them.” There was a spark in his chest, a smoldering ember of rage, and the more he spoke the bigger it got. He was angry, angrier than he should be, but he didn’t question it.

“Oh is that right? Well go on, tell me all about them Mer-lin.”

Merlin shook his head, “Forget it, I don’t want to argue with you, goodnight Arthur.” He moved to step past the prince and leave the room, but Arthur stepped into his path.

“Excuse me? We’ll be done when I say we’re done, I am your prince and you will do as I say.”

The spark burned and flared. “Move out of the way Arthur, go to bed.”

“Just _who_ do you think you’re talking to Merlin?”

“ _Move_.” Merlin glared and his magic roiled under his skin. He fought to keep the gold from his eyes.

_That's right, you're right, get angry._

“Maybe you need a reminder of just who’s in charge here, I think a night in the dungeon might do just that.” Arthur said coolly.

The spark in Merlin’s chest ignited. He did everything for Arthur; washed him, fed him, clothed him, and that was just what everyone knew about. He’d saved his life a thousand times in a thousand different ways, and for all that he _still_ wouldn’t listen to him. Refused to heed the advice of his friend, of his _servant_ . Well maybe he _should_ ( _He will, he’ll listen, he’ll have to listen now_ ).

The act was instinctive, something he’d have struggled to do consciously. His magic reached out to Arthur, found the patterns of Josephine’s spell, the traces that lingered around Arthur and were yet to fade. His own magic latched on to them, overwhelmed them. The broken chords that had encircled Arthur’s mind were rewoven, stronger, tighter. It was the work of a moment or two, happening at the speed of a thought. Between one breath and the next Arthur’s eyes glazed over. His breathing evened out and flattened. His mouth, open to order Merlin around just seconds prior, now hung loose and slack. He had a look of peace on his face, a simple, pure kind of bliss Merlin had never seen taking over his features. It was almost beatific the way his brow unfurrowed and his lips curled in a faint smile.

The spark guttered out and Merlin stared at his friend in faint horror. This was wrong, this was awfully terribly wrong ( _It was right, oh so right_ ). He fumbled for the magic, reached out and grabbed threads now made of his own magic. He’d killed the enchantress because her spell had been impossible to break without further study, not without risking the minds of those she’d enthralled. But this was his magic, far stronger than hers yes, but bound to him, and it should obey his commands.

The noose that had strangled Arthur’s thoughts loosened and slackened, but it didn’t come undone altogether. No matter how he tugged at it, it refused to be dismissed. Still as Arthur blinked slowly Merlin saw more life come back into him. The noose was still there, still gave him leverage if he wished for it, but it didn’t keep the prince utterly bound to him. 

“What were we talking about?” Arthur asked, befuddled.

Merlin warred with himself for a brief moment before losing to his impulse to skirt his way out of trouble. “Nothing sire, you were just going to bed.” He meant to just say it, but as he did so he tugged ever so gently. Arthur's face, which had screwed up faintly in concentration as he tried to recall what they’d been talking about, smoothed out.

Arthur nodded, and Merlin could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “Right, I’m going to bed.” Arthur shook himself a few times, coming more awake and gave Merlin a dismissive nod. “Goodnight Merlin.”

Merlin backed away as the prince slid into bed, feeling even now the bond between them and trying desperately not to touch it. “Goodnight Arthur.” The door closed behind him and Merlin swiftly made his way back to Gaius’ chambers, ignoring as best he could the pulsing in his ears and the warm flush of his body.

\-----

It started small, as all sins do. The presence of the tether was constant, always in reach, always just a thought away from tightening. Merlin spent his days fighting the impulse to curb Arthur's behavior. His nights meanwhile, were spent scouring forbidden texts. Whatever spell he had overtaken, it wasn’t in any of the books Gaius had on hand. Without knowing how he had usurped the remnants of the spell he couldn’t figure out how to free Arthur from the hold completely, so for the time being he resolved himself to giving the other man as much slack as was metaphysically possible.

This was not to last.

As seemed to be the case every other week or so, an assassin stole into Camelot intent on killing the prince. This one came masquerading as a jester of great renown. Idle tongues waggle most easily around servants though, and soon enough Merlin learned the true nature of the intruder. As had become routine, he told Arthur. 

“I don’t think we should trust him.”

He awaited the usual response, the scoff, the joking, the dismissal. For one brief moment he forgot the hold he had on Arthur’s mind. The illusion of normalcy shattered the next instant however.

“You’re right Merlin, we shouldn’t trust him.” Arthur said slowly, his eyes clouding over for a moment before they went back to shining as usual. Merlin was thrown for a moment before he realized that he had pulled on the tether between them unconsciously. Merlin blinked in shock for a moment before nodding to himself ( _it’s the right thing, do it, tell him what to think_ ).

“He’s clearly not trustworthy.” He said slowly, pulling just a bit more.

Arthur’s gaze flattened again “He’s clearly not trustworthy.” The prince sighed blissfully as Merlin's grip tightened.

Heat flushed through Merlin’s body, this was wrong( _right oh so right finally yes)_ and he felt it settle lower down in his stomach than he was comfortable with. His mouth seemed to dry out in an instant. Ignoring the wave of pleasure ( _so good so right do it do it do it)_ he continued. “He’s an assassin, you know that.”

Arthur repeated Merlin’s words obediently, nodding happily as he did so. 

“Have the guards arrest him.”

“I’ll have the guards arrest him.”

The heat pulsed through him, urged him to continue but with an effort of will he loosened his grip on the tether. As he fed it the slack he had become accustomed to, Arthur came alive once more, movements coming back to a warriors fluidity instead of the passive puppet he’d become. 

“Merlin why don’t you invite the dear little jester for a private showing. I’ll let the guards know we’re to have some entertainment.” Arthur grinned at him, and Merlin’s pulse leaped.

“At once sire,” Merlin said, giving the faintest bob of his head before striding away, leaving the prince in his quarters.

Later that same day the assassin was felled in battle with a knight, cut down easily once he was exposed. In the span of a few hours the work was done, the assassin dispatched. No struggle, no arguments, just simple, efficient action. It was, Merlin mused, so incredibly _easy_ when Arthur listened to him. 

And Merlin soon began to _enjoy_ easy.

\-----

In the way of all bad habits, the pushing and pulling of the prince’s mind soon became something of a passing thought. Each time he nudged Arthur in the right ( _my way is best_ ) direction, it became easier and easier to not consider it at all. He wasn’t harming Arthur after all ( _I only want what’s best for him, that's all, and_ **_I_ ** _know best)_ , he was simply . . . guiding him to the right conclusion. Merlin saw more than most, knew more than most, gleaned secrets and took action to prevent bloodshed. It was all for the greater good.

Arthur wanted to go out on a hunt when a great storm was predicted, but with an increasingly subtle tug of the tether and the right words whispered in his ear, the prince realized how foolish that idea was. An innocent civilian accidentally knocked him into the mud? Well any notion of the stocks was swiftly put to rest. A visiting dignitary treating the citizenry as disposable? Arthur found himself incapable of tolerating that. A few weeks after the entire incident had begun and Arthur was already cultivating a better reputation with the civilians. A strong, noble prince, willing to stand up for his citizens. 

The more the people whispered about the prince’s improved attitude (in spite of Uther’s constant growling) the more Merlin found himself nudging his friend along. He was helping Arthur, helping him be better, and if Merlin enjoyed that in ways other than strictly emotional well what was the harm?

They got along better now, and though Merlin was never a fan of them, he wasn’t a tyrant ( _Tyrants are cruel, this is just_ ) and so the two still went out for the occasional hunt. It was during just such an occasion that the ember that had caused it all surged again.

The sun was hot and the air heavy, thick with heat. The forest was dappled with sunlight, and the sound of their horses hooves was the only thing that broke the susurrus of the leaves bending in a slight breeze. They decided to break for a time in a clearing with a few cool rocks to lean against, slaking their thirst and sating their hunger. 

“I don’t know about you Merlin, “Arthur said with a grimace, “But I’m positively roasting.” 

Merlin was in the same boat, clothing soaked through with sweat. He wouldn’t have allowed them to even go on this hunt if it hadn’t been cool at the outset and he hadn’t stopped Arthur’s last two. As it was he was going to turn them around after their rest. It had been an unsuccessful outing, though for once Arthur’s failure hadn’t been due to Merlin’s influence. Merlin pulled out a sandwich from his bag and was about to bite into it when he heard clothing rustle. He turned to find Arthur, bare chested and shining in the sunlight.

Merlin’s mouth slipped open as he took in the sight. The sweat caught the light and almost seemed to make Arthur’s skin _glimmer._ Merlin’s breathing hitched and the ember sparked something in him. This was a _beautiful_ sight, and he wanted to soak it in for as long as possible.

“What’re you staring at Mer- _lin_?” Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Ah- nothing sire, nothing at all,” He covered, willing himself not to blush.

Arthur, as was his habit when given free reign to think, came to the exact wrong conclusion. “Ahhh, I see what this is.”

“What?”

“Listen Merlin there’s no need to be embarrassed. I train every day, I’m strong and I eat well, we can’t all be as muscular as I am.”

“Ah, uh, yes sire, just, you know, skinny old me.”

“You know Merlin,” Arthur said with a teasing smile, “If you actually did all your chores you’d probably be stronger by now.”

Merlin quirked his mouth and narrowed his eyes. Arthur wanted to play? Well Merlin could _play_. With skill honed over the past few weeks, he gently teased the tether between them. Arthur didn’t fall slack jawed, nor did he smile dreamily. The only sign of Merlin’s control over him was an observable ripple in his body as unconscious tension melted away.

“You’re quite right sire, would you mind showing me the results of your training a bit more?” Merlin leaned back against a rock, sandwich forgotten as Arthur’s mind began to be guided by his words.

“Well certainly Merlin, what would you like to see?” Arthur smiled. 

“Why don’t you show me,” He hesitated, never having done this sort of thing before. Then he continued, “Show me how strong those arms of yours are.”

Arthur obliged him, flexing his arms. Merlin starred, enraptured, leaning forward to drink it all in. The sweat that covered Arthur made his muscles shine, and Merlin was hit with the sudden and inexplicable urge to lick it off him. He could see the swell of muscle under Arthur’s skin, wanted to _feel_ them, but he held himself back. As he adjusted his seat, he abruptly realized how incredibly tight his pants were. Surreptitiously adjusting himself, he licked his lips and issued his next “suggestion”. 

“Why don’t you lean against that rock, show me how . . . how strong your core is.”

Arthur grinned and shook his hair, lounging against the rock and directly in the sunlight with the kind of contemptuous ease and grace only royalty could manage. Merlin’s mind blanked for a moment. All he could think of at that moment was how earthshakingly _beautiful_ Arthur was. The light caught on him and seemed intent on making the already stunning prince even more gorgeous. Arthur’s hair shone golden in the slant of sun, his smile widened and his stomach glistened as every muscle in his body was put on display. His gentle, smooth breathing made his chest rise and fall, and Merlin found himself lost in the sight of the swell.

Merlin knew what he wanted at that moment. Knew that he wanted to see every inch of Arthur like this. He wanted to make the prince cast aside his clothes entirely, to pose nude and strong for Merlin, so he could drink it in. If he were a stonemason he’d have made a statue out of the moment. He was already idly planning on looking up stone working spells for just that purpose, somewhere in the back of his mind where his every thought wasn’t consumed by _Arthur_.

The ember burned and roiled in him, made him _want_ things, things he hadn’t thought of before with Arthur, with anyone really. The urge was almost maddening, and for a second Arthur froze, his mind utterly throttled by the tether, mouth agape and head entirely empty, every thought suffocated in infancy.

And then the moment passed, and Merlin realized what he was doing, what he was thinking, and he _forced_ the tether back open, let Arthur’s thoughts flood back in. Arthur blinked, befuddled for a moment, unsure what had happened but knowing something was different.

Merlin kept quiet, ruminating on his thoughts, and though the day only got hotter, he let Arthur keep the hunt up until the prince himself decided to go home.

That night, Merlin curled his hand around himself and thought of Arthur, mind utterly open, shifting between smiling widely and having him drooling and slack jawed. He found no respite from his desires, not that night, nor any night after.

\-----

The breaking point came, as they always do. Merlin had avoided so much as touching the tether for the slightest of reasons. He’d avoided Arthur too, though the prince was too busy to notice. Arthur's popularity hadn’t waned, even as Merlin stopped tugging his mind around like a bobble on a string.

It happened at night, the two once more alone in the prince’s chambers. This night was something rather special however. This night was a bath night. The water had been dumped into the tub many times, heated and treated and it was at last ready for the prince.

Merlin had seen Arthur naked countless times, it was part and parcel of being the prince’s servant. But he hadn’t felt this way before, hadn’t had these thoughts and these feelings.

Hadn’t had this control over him.

Merlin busied himself straightening pillows and arranging things just so, putting off the inevitable as long as he could. Eventually though, he heard the tell tale clearing of a throat.

“Mer- _lin_ , do you expect me to clean myself?” 

Merlin winced and turned to face his prince. Arthur had shucked his clothes and left them strewn on the floor ( _I could make him pick those up_ ), and he had already settled into the bath water, small puddles forming where the bath had overflowed.

The angle and the water distorted Merlin's view just enough to be a maddening temptation, hiding a sight he had already seen, but never with the eyes he had now.

Arthur dipped under the water for a moment, rising soon after with his hair slicked down and wet. “Well what are you waiting for Merlin?” The prince leaned back and relaxed. Merlin took his spot on the nearby stool and, forcing down the shaking of his fingers, got to work. A number of bottles sat nearby, waiting to be used, each of them filled with concoctions by Gaius that the old man said would restore balance to Arthur’s humors and invigorate him. Merlin poured some into his hands, lathering them with an unfamiliar liquid that smelt of elderberries. 

“Any time tonight Merlin,” Arthur sighed, eyes closed. A frown tugged at Merlin’s lips but he pushed it away.

His hands moved slowly at first, working through Arthur’s hair. The curls shone while wet, and as his fingers worked their way over Arthur’s scalp, Merlin couldn’t help but smile as he noticed the creases in his prince’s forehead fade away. This was the way Arthur should always look, he thought. Peaceful and content and happy. _I could make him that way_ , a treacherous voice in his head whispered. A faint warmth from the ember he’d buried sparked in him. Merlin did his best to ignore it, though it was made harder by the faint moan Arthur let out as Merlin worked out a particularly stubborn knot from his hair.

“Merlin where did you get to be so _good_ at this sort of thing?” It was the heat of the bath and the ache of the day certainly, but Arthur _moaned_ the words and it sent shivers through Merlin. He very carefully _didn’t_ clench his hands, though he wanted to, wanted to pull Arthur’s hair and bring his face and his lips crashing into Merlin's own.

Instead of doing that however, he murmured something about fastening buckles on armor making nimble fingers or some other nonsense. The bath continued, slow and steady, and Merlin mixed any number of concoctions into the bath water. Arthur grew more and more content and his smile stretched wider with every passing moment. 

Eventually, the bath water grew cold, and Arthur let out a faint disappointed sigh. “Well Merlin that was definitely something, but I should get out of here before I catch my death.”

“Of course sire,” Merlin murmured. He took a towel from beside his bench, kept safely out of the way of the puddles, and as Arthur stood and Merlin deftly looked away, he towled the prince down. He ignored the muscles under his hands, ignored the _shapes_ he could feel through the cloth.

“It’s a pity we can’t get hot water all the time, I’d have kept you at that for a few more hours at least,” Arthur said with a small laugh.

“Really?” Merlin asked, face flushing out of the other man’s sight.

“Oh don’t moan on about it Merlin,” Arthur said, “we’ve finally found something you’re _good_ at, I dare say that warrants a celebration.”

It was a small thing, not even a jibe really, but it struck that spark once again. And this time, filled with desire he could not contain or ignore anymore, Merlin let that spark turn into a flame. For the first time in days, he pulled upon the tether.

“If you’d like Sire, we _can_ keep going.” He smiled, anticipating what would come ( _finally god please yes yes yes(you want him, take him Merlin))_.

“How do you mean?” Arthur asked. He didn’t sound angry, merely confused. Merlin had taken the reins but hadn’t given him any direction yet.

“You’ve enjoyed a nice hot bath, I think some of these oils would do good things for your muscles if applied . . . directly.”

_That’s right Merlin, very good._

“Oh,” Arthur said, nodding slowly at first and then more quickly as the idea became his own, “oh you’re quite right Merlin.”

“So why don’t you go lie down Sire, and I can treat your muscles with the ointments Gaius prepared for you.” Merlin said leadingly.

Arthur nodded to himself once more, moving, naked as the day he was born, to his bed. THe prince laid down, face in his pillows, and Merlin wavered. He could go now. Could put Arthur to sleep, spell his clothes on and leave.

 _No no no, given in Merlin, give_ **_in._ **

But that wasn’t what he wanted, not anymore. And after so long of denying himself, delaying and deflecting, Merlin decided that _now_ was the time to finally get what _he_ wanted.

The ointments floated silently up and followed Merlin as he walked purposefully towards the bed. The bottles clinked lightly as they settled on the nearby table, and Merlin stared down at his prince, soaking up the sight. 

In the light of the candles, Arthur's smooth skin seemed to drink in the darkness. Every shadow revealed a ripple of muscle, from his broad, strong shoulders to the subtle dip in his back. Merlin had claimed, many times in fact, that Arthur was an ass, but it might have been better to say that he _had_ an ass. Perhaps even _the_ ass. Round and undoubtedly (And oh soon he would _know_ ) firm, milky and smooth, the sight captivated him. His legs, strong and thick from daily riding and training in heavy armor. Oh how Merlin had _hated_ that armor, but now that he was seeing the results of wearing it, seeing the way it had sculpted Arthurs body like a statue, he couldn’t help but feel grateful.

He poured a generous helping of the ointment into his hands, warmed it with a flicker of magic. He licked his lips, devouring the splayed and compliant prince with his eyes. “Ready sire?” His voice came out huskily, thick with arousal. Arthur started to turn in confusion before Merlin twisted the tether and the blond collapsed like a puppet, mouth gaping. It sparked in the young Warlock a hunger unrivaled by anything he had felt before, and he found suggestions, compulsions, _commands_ spilling from his mouth.

_At last._

“You’re going to enjoy this.”

“I’m going to enjoy this.”

 _Dance little puppets dance_.

“You want this more than anything.”

“I want this more than anything.”

_That’s right, good boys._

“Everything I do is going to make you feel so intensely good.”

Arthur repeated him mindlessly, drool starting to escape his slack jaw. Merlin eased off of his mind after a few more suggestions. It took a minute or so, but life came back into Arthur’s eyes and he looked at Merlin with a “well get on with it” sort of expression. Arthur turned back around, and Merlin smiled, licked his lips ( _and for the slightest of moments there was a flicker of black in the gold of his eyes_ ).

It was time for a feast.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello for all wondering there is a part two to this that is up now, I'm working on the rest of the chapters but chapter 1 is up, so go to the little series button in the description of this and get to that juicy juicy new content


	2. Part two, here we come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a minor update to make sure you all get it.

Hello all, it's me, anonymous, posting in probably the wrong place but despite using this site for going on like 5 years or more I still don't know how to use most of its features. Anyways, this series is being continued, and the first chapter of the second work is up now for those of you who wanted to know. Flock to my pseudosmut you horny denizens of the internet, flock I say.

**Author's Note:**

> So no actual smut in this, but if I you all want it I can certainly take a crack at it! Any tips or critique is deeply appreciated, I really wanted to sell the slow corruption and slippery slope Merlin slid off of, so let me know how that went if you please.


End file.
